


Sushi Bar

by orphan_account



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:59:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the kinkmeme. Prompt: Yamamoto x Gokudera. Sushi bar sex. They almost get caught by Yamamoto's father. Rather PWP-ish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sushi Bar

The idea was to have a party to celebrate graduating from Namimori Middle School. Yamamoto thought over the list of who to invite. Gokudera and Tsuna, of course, and Hibari, he supposed. Mukuro was a possibility, but he probably wouldn’t show up. He wasn’t much for team activities. Ryohei declared right away that he was going to be training in the mountains as soon as school ended, and started ranting about bears. When Takeshi’s father announced that he would let them have a little sake for the occasion, that crossed Hibari off the guest list—breaking any rules around him wasn’t smart idea.

When Yamamoto told Gokudera about the event, he accepted the invitation on the condition that Tsuna would be there. Tsuna was excited first, but he called the day before the party to tell Yamamoto that he was sick and couldn’t make it. Gokudera showed up the next day to find only Yamamoto waiting for.

“Where’s Juudaime? Isn’t he here yet?”

Yamamoto smiled sheepishly. “He’s sick. I guess I forgot to tell you. Haha! Oops!”

“You idiot!” Gokudera growled, “Well, I’m not going to hang out with just you, especially if Juudaime is sick!” he shot Yamamoto a dirty look and turned to leave.

Yamamoto caught his arm before he took more than a step. “It’d be a waste if you left, right? At least stay for the free food!” He smiled brightly.

Gokudera grumbled, but he let himself be led inside the restaurant, all the way to a table at the back. He sat down reluctantly and scowled when Yamamoto took a seat beside him.

The tall Rain Guardian started talking loudly, conversing with very little effort. Gokudera envied his comfort. Arguing was more of his thing. Friendly conversation always came difficultly. He could only manage short, clipped conversation with most people (except for Juudaime of course, but then, he was special), so his responses to Yamamoto weren’t very insightful.

He sighed and relief when Yamamoto’s father brought back a tray with the sushi and a bottle of sake. At least eating is an excuse not to talk, he thought. Yamamoto still managed to babble on about baseball, and interesting (or not) things that it happened in the week since school had ended, and countless other topics that Gokudera hardly listened to. He only realized how much sake he’d been drinking when Yamamoto said, “Gokudera, you sure can drink, haha!” Gokudera glanced at the nearly half empty bottle, and at his own cup, which had been emptied… How many times? He blushed and set it down. “Shut up! I wouldn’t be drinking if I had something better to do!”

Yamamoto last good naturedly. “Are you bored? We could talk about something you want to talk about. Just speak up!”

“I don’t want to talk with you! The party’s over anyway, I’ll just go home.” He tried to push his chair back, but Yamamoto stopped the chair with one hand.

“Do you want to do … something else?” He’d leaned in toward Gokudera.

“I – idiot! What else could we do? I’m not going to play baseball with you!” he leaned away nervously. The alcohol he’d been drinking was getting to him. He was starting to feel sluggish, but, surprisingly, comfortably warm.

Yamamoto flashed a winning smile. The arm that was holding Gokudera’s chair in place moved to settle around the boy’s shoulders instead, fingers lightly brushing against his exposed collarbone (really, those shirts he wore practically begged this sort of attention).

Gokudera’s blush returned with a vengeance. Really, this was weird and wrong and so warm and…oh my god those long fingers playing lightly on the back of his neck felt so good! “St – stop,” he hissed anyway because, really, he shouldn’t be enjoying this, it was definitely the alcohol. His heart wouldn’t normally be racing so much, his palms would normally be sweating so much, and his pants definitely wouldn’t normally be so uncomfortable.

He meant to shove Yamamoto away—honestly, he did—but when that grin turned lustful and those fingers trailed down his back, all Gokudera could do was grip Yamamoto shirt and pull him closer, pull him to his face and hang there, waiting, wanting.

Yamamoto listened to Gokudera’s silent plea. He closed the distance between them, pulling Gokudera forward for heated kiss. His hand pressed firmly against the small of Gokudera’s back, and his free hand threaded through that silver hair, gripping tightly, roughly. He angled his face, begging for permission to deepen the kiss.

Gokudera hesitantly obliged. His mouth opened and Yamamoto’s tongue slipped inside at once, meeting with his own tongue, pushing, playing. Gokudera breathed heavily through his nose, overwhelmed. His grip on Yamamoto’s shirt slackened as he melted, becoming a blur of heat and pleasure. When Yamamoto’s hand slid up under his shirt, Gokudera actually moaned.

Yamamoto looked around, startled, as Gokudera just sat there, panting and helpless. “We should probably be quieter… My dad could come by at any minute.” He smiled sheepishly. “I guess this is my fault. Maybe we should stop?”

“Fuck that,” Gokudera slurred, from the alcohol but mostly from the feeling. “You fuckin’ started this, so you’d better take responsibility!”

An uncharacteristic smirk crossed Yamamoto’s face. “Whatever you say!” he laughed. He leaned toward Gokudera again, this time aiming for his neck. He sucked and nipped, leaving a trail of marks to his collarbone, as Gokudera tried to hold in any sounds.

One moan slipped, and then another, and then he was stuttering “T – Takeshi!” (Because ohgod, it was too warm, too painful, too good to keep quiet) but that just inflamed Yamamoto more, so he started on Gokudera’s buttons, hands shaking in anticipation.

“Takeshi, is everything all right?”

Yamamoto froze, hands on the last button Gokudera’s shirt. “Y – yeah, dad. Why?”

“I heard moaning. It is your friend okay?” Gokudera heard this distantly, it hardly made sense. The fog around his thoughts was receding, but it remained thick.

“He’s feeling a little sick. Uh, he might have had too much to drink.”

“Make sure you take care of him!”

Yamamoto smirked at the unintentional double meaning. “Oh, I will!” He stood up and helped Gokudera out of his chair, supporting him as he stood. “We’re going to continue somewhere more private,” he said quietly in Gokudera’s ear. Not such a good idea, it turned out, as Gokudera responded by throwing his head back and whining loudly. Yamamoto laughed softly.

The trip to the storeroom was made as quickly as possible. He set Gokudera down and leaned him against the wall, looking around. The door didn’t lock from the inside. They couldn’t make too much noise here, either, or else his father would come to investigate. He pushed a crate in front of the door for good measure. He looked at the door and looked to Gokudera, wondering if it would be okay. Well, his father probably wouldn’t have any reason to come in here…

He walked over to Gokudera and leaned over him. Gokudera immediately reached up and gripped Yamamoto shirt. “Kiss me,” he demanded gruffly, seemly a little more lucid than before.

Yamamoto smirked. Now that sounded like the Gokudera he knew. He straddled his legs and the two locked lips again. Gokudera was more aggressive this time, deepening the kiss himself right away and sucking on Yamamoto’s tongue. Yamamoto made quick work of Gokudera’s shirt and undershirt, tugging them off his wiry frame. Yamamoto broke the kiss and looked down. Gokudera’s hair was mussed, his face was flushed, his lips swollen, and his neck covered in little marks. He still had on his tight (and getting tighter) pants. Definitely too much clothing, Yamamoto decided. He brushed his hand teasingly against the bulge in Gokudera’s pants (and oh, that was the best moan yet) and gripped his many belts, tugging until he got them all undone and tossed aside. He pulled down the zipper slowly, notch by notch, watching Gokudera’s face the entire time.

Gokudera’s eyes drifted slowly to Yamamoto’s face. He shivered when he saw the predatory gleam in Yamamoto’s eyes. He knew his own eyes were probably glazed over with lust. He moved his lips, drawing a form a coherent sentence out of a jumbled thought. He managed a whining “please,” eyes locked with Yamamoto.

Yamamoto shivered in pleasure. He couldn’t wait much longer. He tugged Gokudera’s pants off (more roughly than he had intended, but it was a boy’s own fault for being so erotic) and cast them aside. His boxers that the same fate, and suddenly Gokudera was on full display for him, face flushed in arousal and embarrassment. He tried to cover himself, to pull in his legs and arms, Yamamoto stopped him. “No, don’t hide. I want to see you.”

The intensity of that voice, those words, those eyes sent a shockwave of pleasure to Gokudera’s groin, as well as an even deeper blush to his face, but he relented and stretched out again. Feeling brave, and suddenly hyperaware, he said “It’s your turn, idiot, take off your damn clothes.”

Yamamoto grinned playfully. “Always so commanding, Gokudera!” but he started on his clothes just the same. He could practically feel the need radiating off Gokudera, so he didn’t dawdle over the task. When he was rid of the clothes, Yamamoto practically pounced on Gokudera—he’d waited far too long for this. He’d been dreaming of this for over a year. He cupped Gokudera’s face, kissed him deeply one more time, and then slipped his fingers into Gokudera’s mouth. “Suck,” he instructed.

Gokudera hesitantly started sucking on the fingers, one hand coming up to grip Yamamoto’s wrist. He looked it Yamamoto questioningly, requesting an explanation.

Yamamoto blushed. So that meant that neither of them had done this before. The thought pleased him more than he expected it would. “I looked into how to do this—I have to, err, stretch you so it doesn’t hurt later.”

Gokudera blushed again, but quirked an eyebrow. He took Yamamoto’s slicked fingers out of his mouth. “You looked up how to have sex with a guy?”

“Haha, yeah, I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while. And I wanted to do it right for you.”

Gokudera called him in idiot again, but by the cute nervous stutter and the way he averted his eyes, Yamamoto could tell that he was flattered.

Looking determined, Yamamoto prompted Gokudera to lie back on the ground and spread his legs. Carefully, gently, he slipped one finger inside of Gokudera. Gokudera gasped but didn’t complain. Yamamoto wiggled his finger round before slowly adding a second.

Gokudera was uncomfortable. Yamamoto’s scissoring fingers felt like nothing ever experienced before. It was weird in just a bit painful. Bastard...who decided that he’d be on top, anyway? He was about to toss out another insult when a sudden shock of pleasure ran up his spine. His erection jumped and he moaned loudly.

Yamamoto grinned down at him. “Found it!” He pressed against the spot again, and slipped in a third finger when Gokudera was distracted by the sensation. He continued to stretch Gokudera. He’d been waiting too long to suddenly mess everything up by hurting Gokudera. Finally, he deemed him sufficiently prepared. He pulled his fingers out and looked around for anything that could be used as lubrication. Up on a shelf above their heads, a bottle of rice oil looked promising. He reached up and grabbed it. Opening it, he poured some into his hand and set the bottle aside impatiently. He coated himself with the oil before turning his attention back to Gokudera.

Gokudera gulped and eyed Yamamoto’s manhood warily. “You know what you’re doing?” Sure, what Yamamoto had done before had felt wonderful, but this was sex. He’d never—

Yamamoto cut off his worries by leaning in and pressing his lips to Gokudera’s forehead in a gentle kiss. “I swear, I’ll do everything I can to make this good for you. If you want to stop, just tell me.”

Gokudera looked deep into Yamamoto’s eyes, seeing the serious sincerity there. He nodded. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Yamamoto sat back and gripped Gokudera’s hips. He lined up the tip of his cock with Gokudera’s entrance. Slowly, gently, he pressed inside the hot passage. It was tight, but he’d done a good job in preparing Gokudera. He was seated fully inside with just a few short thrusts. He leaned in again, kissing and murmuring gentle words into Gokudera’s neck as the boy adjusted to his size. When Gokudera’s clenched hands moved to grip his shoulders firmly, but not nervously, Yamamoto started moving.

He thrust shallowly at first, but Gokudera’s heated moaning encouraged him. He started thrusting faster and faster. By this time he was moaning a bit himself. Gokudera was so warm. The delicious, tight heat, combined with Gokudera’s throaty moans, brought him so close to the edge that he had to concentrate on restraining himself. This is all about Gokudera, he reminded himself.

Yamamoto reached between them and started pumping Gokudera teasingly. Gokudera’s moans became even louder. Yamamoto put his free arm down by Gokudera’s head to steady himself, then pressed forward to bring Gokudera into a passionate kiss, muffling his moans. It wouldn’t do to be interrupted in the act.

Gokudera gave one last strangled moan before coming all over his and Yamamoto’s chests, crying out, “T-Takeshi!”

When Gokudera’s insides contracted around him, Yamamoto couldn’t hold back any longer. He growled, “Hayato!” as his hot cum filled Gokudera.

They both lay there, panting, for a few minutes. Yamamoto pulled out of Gokudera slowly, gazing at him lovingly.

Suddenly, footsteps approached the pantry from the outside. “Takeshi, are you and your friend in there? I thought I heard some noise.”

Yamamoto shot up and started collecting the strewn-about articles of clothing. “Uh, yeah, we’re in here, dad!” he slurred struggling into his boxers. On the ground, Gokudera was attempting the same.

A pause. “Why are you in there?”

“Well, you see, Gokudera was still feeling sick,” he managed to zip up his pants and grab his shirt while making up an excuse, “and I was looking for some medicine!”

“In the storage pantry?”

“Yeah, because I didn’t know where else to look, so I said, why not?” He hurriedly pulled on his shirt and glanced at Gokudera. The boy was just finishing buttoning up his own shirt.

The door shook as it was tried. “Did you block the door?”

“Um,” Yamamoto pushed the crate back out of the way, took one last sweeping glance to make sure everything was in order, then pulled the door open. “Honest mistake. Didn’t even notice, really.”

Gokudera snorted derisively and pushed past him. “Whatever. I have a headache. I’m going home.”

“See you tomorrow?” Yamamoto called hopefully.

Gokudera smirked over his shoulder. “Do whatever you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, this is very old. I wrote it over a year ago. But, I like this site more than the places I've posted previously, so I dug it up.


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